Fireflies

1.

"How I wish, how I wish you were here.

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,

Year after year,

Running over the same old ground.

What have we found?

The same old fears.

Wish you were here."

The tribute to Syd Barrett filled my ears as I sang along, moving my head to the music blaring out of my speakers.

"I thought you didn't like Pink Floyd," my best friend's voice was barely audible over David Gilmour's guitar.

"I don't," I turned the music down, "but Wish You Were Here is one of the greatest songs ever written. It's a timeless masterpiece."

She scoffed and shook her head, "You're so confusing."

"Not confusing, just appreciate the beautiful things in life, no matter where they come from."

She smiled and turned back to look out the window.

It was currently the middle of fall, my favorite season. Not because of the pumpkin spice lattes or the outfits I can wear this season, but because of my surroundings.

The warm colors of the leaves surrounding us every which way, the feeling of the cool air and the wind hitting my skin, the sun rising later in the mornings and setting earlier in the evenings. It's a peaceful feeling.

"It's this street."

"Chase," I turned to her, "I know where you live. You don't need to keep telling me where to turn every time. I've gone to your house at least twenty times this month alone."

"Just saying, man," she chuckled, "Last time you passed it."

"I zoned out, okay. Don't be a butt nugget."

I turned into her driveway and she stepped out of my truck.

"Pick me up at seven, yeah? That should give me enough time to get ready." She flipped her hair back.

"Chase, that's four hours from now. How are you not gonna have enough time?"

"I'm a girl, okay. I wanna look cute just in case I meet the one."

I rolled my eyes, "Gross. You always think you'll meet the one. But okay, I'll be here at seven. I'm not waiting for you, though. You better be ready, butt chew."

"I'll try!" She chuckled, "Okay, I'll see you then."

I pulled out of her driveway and headed home, which wasn't far from Chase's.

I climbed out of my truck, making sure to grab all my things, and headed inside. The fresh aroma of fried chicken hit me right when I walked in.

Popeyes.

"Hey, bud. Got your favorite," my dad greeted me right when I walked in, "How was school?"

"Oh, fantastic," I said with a hint of sarcasm.

"That's just cause you don't have any friends."

I gasped, "Dad! I have friends!"

"One," he chuckled, "but she's all you need."

"Whatever, man. I just want some chicken."

"Eat up," he pushed the plate towards me.

"Hold on, hold on," he looked at me and I shot my hands up, forming little guns with my fingers, "Gotta wash these bad boys."